


No Hard Feelings

by Hatsepsut



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst (a bit), Dark Alley sex, Erectile Dysfunction, F/M, Fenris' cock knows who to work for, Fenris' wounded ego, Fluff (some trace amounts), Hawke stroking said wounded ego, Impotence Jokes, Jealousy, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, broken relationship, miffed Isabela, upright sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 17:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4844798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsepsut/pseuds/Hatsepsut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Fenris leaves Hawke, Isabela considers him free for the taking; Hawke's had a taste, why can't she? She ruthlessly hounts him until, spurred by jealousy, Fenris gives in.<br/>Only to find that his body has long realised what his mind is slow to process: there is only one woman for him, and that woman is Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Hard Feelings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LiviLottie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LiviLottie).



> Another present fic, this time for LiviLottie, who was the 500th reviewer to Finally Together, Birds of a Feather back when that story was posted on FF. Net.   
> I was asked to do a story where Fenris tries to hook up with Isabela after walking out on Hawke, but realises she is the only woman for him...I came up with the idea that he realises it because he can’t get hard.  
> I don't know if LiviLottie is a member of this site, but I thank her once again for her long time support and her wonderful prompt.

"So, sweet thing," Isabela leaned over the table, her amber eyes focused on Fenris, "I hear Hawke has sampled the goods. When do I get my turn?"

Fenris raised just one eyebrow, and didn't even look at her, although his shoulders tensed and his lips stiffened.

"You jest with things beyond your comprehension, wench," he muttered and shot a veiled look at Hawke, who was currently discussing with Anders. The sight annoyed him, like it always did, and for the hundredth time he wondered if Hawke would finally succumb to the mage's open adoration. He noticed she hadn't even glanced his way, and that annoyed him more, bruising his ego, before a little voice spoke up in his mind and called him a fool, a selfish bastard.

 _You made it perfectly clear it could never amount to anything between you_ , the little voice accused. _Now you are miffed she is paying attention to someone else. Hypocrite. Fool. Let her go, already_.

He dragged his eyes away and was immediately confronted with a sight of Isabela's impressive cleavage; the busty pirate had leaned onto the table, flashing him with her scantily covered breasts.

"See anything you like, hot stuff?" she smirked when she caught him staring.

Fenris snorted and averted his eyes. "No."

"No?" Isabela squeezed the sides of her breasts with her arms, making the cleavage even more pronounced. She sent him a cheeky grin. "Anything you would like to taste then?"

"No."

Isabela's smile just got wider and cheekier. "Do you know any three letter words?"

"Yes."

"Four-letter?"

"Fuck."

"Yes, please."

* * *

The damned pirate wouldn't leave him alone. Nobody had breathed a word of Hawke and his failed romance attempt, so if course it was public knowledge. The red band on his wrist and the crest on his waist didn't actually help keep the whole incident under wraps, and neither did the fact that they now avoided each other, but he had hoped that is companions wouldn't have noticed.

That hope had been dashed, irrevocably so, the very next day, with one of Varric's comments. Even ditzy, naïve Merrill had noticed and had made that absurd 'puppy-eyes' comment. He did not make puppy eyes at Hawke. He did _not_.

Well, maybe once, and totally by mistake.

Damn, this was irritating. Varric was continuously making derogatory comments about his intelligence, Anders shot him looks that were both furious and smug, and Aveline looked ready to murder him.

But Isabela was the worst. By far.

They had been making their way to the Hightown market, for Hawke to talk to her partner in the Bone Pit mine, and he'd had to stay at the back, because Isabela would just _not_ stop commending on his backside. Or trying to pinch it.

The pirate seemed to have gotten in her head the idea that since Hawke had 'had a taste', he was publicly available. She had never been so pushy in the past, so flirtatious. Now, it seemed that if she could offer herself up in a platter, she would.

"So, what do you say, sweet thing?" she kept on talking and Fenris shook his head and tried to avoid her. "I have wine, I have time, and all I'm missing is some hot male.."

"For the thousandth time, NO."

She just laughed and Hawke turned to them, a small frown on her beautiful face, before she tensed her luscious mouth and slipped her arm into Anders'. The mage gave a little surprised jolt and then a happy, brilliant smile.

Fenris saw red.

An irrational urge to hurt Hawke, to spite her, rose up inside him. Isabela was again saying something to him, in that smooth, seductive drawl of hers, but her voice reached his ears like background noise and nothing else. All he could focus on was Hawke's body pressed into Anders' side, and the way the mage was looking at her, as if every single one of his childhood dreams had come true.

"When?" he turned to the pirate, and she actually stumbled a bit in surprise.

"When what?" she gasped, obviously mistaking the rage that was darkening his eyes with desire.

"When and where, Isabela?" he ground out, noting with glee how stiff Hawke's posture had suddenly become. "I have had enough with you hounding me. Where. And. When."

Isabela clapped her hands and then leaned over him, flashing him a look of her breasts.

"How about now, sweet thing," she crooned into his sensitive ear, making an involuntary shudder run through him, " and anywhere you want to. Not to mention any way you want it."

Fenris growled, getting aroused against his will. He was tired of feeling guilty and angry; he was tired of everybody treating him as he had the plague. He was tired of all this riling and teasing and of Hawke's sidelong, awkward glances. Lust was preferable to...whatever he was feeling; he would drown himself in it.

He did not love Hawke. He didn't. He refused to.

Shooting one last look at her, to see if she would turn back to watch, both cringing at the thought and desiring it with sick, twisted pleasure, he grabbed Isabela's arm and dragged her behind him towards his mansion.

Varric shook his head and watched them go, inwardly cursing that thick, bird-brained shithead of an elf. He hastened after the other two, Anders and Hawke, and catching up to Hawke he shot her a rueful look. She smiled, a small, bitter smirk, and mouthed _it's okay, I don't mind_ , in response to his heartfelt _I'm so sorry, Hawke_.

But he could see she did.

"It's okay, sweet thing," Isabela said, casually combing through her hair with her fingers and retying her bandana in place. "It happens to all men, not with me, usually, but it does. Don't worry about it."

Fenris just growled, mortified. Would she ever leave?

She sauntered up to his side of the bed, where he was sitting with his head bowed down, having an inward conversation with his offending member. The damned thing had refused to come up. She had tried all her tricks, sucked him off until she was blue in the face, whispered dirty words in his ear, caressed and petted and put on a glorious display of her bronze, nude flesh.

His manhood had just stayed there, looking sad and pathetic. Limp as a noodle, totally flaccid; Fenris had been mortified. Not at the state of his...no.

He was shocked out of his mind by the single fact that the only inkling of desire, the only hardening of his staff, had been when he thought of _her_. Hawke. Her name was enough, his member had sprung into life at just the conjured image of her. He had been so surprised, so amazed by the sudden rush of desire that had burned through his body, that a realization had been brought brutally home.

He was in love.

With Hawke. Whom he had abandoned. Who had seen him yank Isabela by the arm and drag her behind him to his house. Who had been clinging to Anders like a lifeline.

Hawke. Kind-hearted, witty, charismatic Hawke, who had taken him into her arms, accepted him for what he was, and given herself with no hesitation, no restraint. And had promptly spoiled him for any other woman.

Isabela had realised and asked him in a very sombre voice if he had been thinking of someone else, at which Fenris could not lie. He thought he had seen a furious, menacing look gloss her eyes for just a second, before she had found her good-natured smile and her easy, casual demeanour.

He lifted his head to apologise, but Isabela just waved it off, smiling a rather cold smile. "No hard feelings, kitten," she smiled, before sauntering out of his room. "I was just curious. Now I know."

Fenris cringed. That sounded a tad ominous. He was sure Isabela had been offended and he knew, _he just knew_ , there would be hell to pay.

Hell hath no fury like a pussy with a dagger, after all.

* * *

A few nights later, at the Hanged Man, Fenris had been sitting at the low table in Varric's room playing diamondback when Hawke and Anders strolled in, followed closely by Isabela. He tensed and his eyes shot from one to the other.

 _Does she know? Has Isabela told her?_ He wished she knew and dreaded that she did. If she knew nothing had happened with Isabela, maybe, just maybe, she would be willing to forgive him. And if she knew...he blushed at the thought. What would she say if she was told Fenris couldn't get it up?

She would probably laugh at him.

 _Maker, make that chatty whore keep her mouth shut for once_ , he silently beseeched.

"Fenris," Isabela's voice rang up as she took a seat opposite the table from him. "Feeling better?"

"Fine," he spat, shooting her a warning look. _Don't you dare_ , that look said. _Don't you fucking dare_...

Isabela ignored him. "Well, I'm happy to report that Fenris markings don't go all the way and that he wears no underwear whatsoever."

Anders' lip curled in contempt. "Had a nice time, Isabela?"

The pirate just shrugged.

"Let's just say that his _sword_ left much to be desired," she gave Fenris a cold smile and he flexed his arm muscles and made a grapping motion, as if to say _I will rip your heart out_.

"Oh, really?" Anders smirked. "Overcompensating, is he? I always thought so."

Fenris' eyes met with the pirate's for just a second and she smiled sweetly at the warning, furious look he sent her, cautioning her not to answer.

"It was not the size, Anders," she laughed. "It was the...rigidity."

Hawke sprayed the table with her drink and then splattered and coughed, while Anders hooted with laughter.

"No spark up his canon, then?"

Varric started laughing too. "So the elf is all bark and no bite?"

Aveline looked at them in confusion and then her eyes shot wide. "Noooo!" she said, incredulous. "Really? Fenris...can't get his hopes up? But I thought..." and she shot Hawke a perplexed look.

She blushed, looked away and then looked at Fenris. He held his breath, expecting her comment, realising with a sinking heart that while the others' commends stung, hers would crush him. He looked away first, and he thought he saw sadness well up in her eyes before she got up.

"He was an amazing lover," she muttered, her voice, usually so loud and cheerful, a sad, feeble whisper. "Isabela, why are you lying?"

Fenris eyes snapped to hers, but they were hidden under the bangs of her hair. He was shocked out of his mind; after the way he had treated her, she still defended him, spoke up to save his male pride. He felt humbled, and then something hard cracked inside him, and warmth spread out, flooding his heart. _Hawke_ , he thought. _My Hawke. You still lo...want me. Maker, I am blessed._

Isabela crossed her arms in front of her chest and smirked. "Not lying. He was at half-mast the whole time."

"For you, perhaps," Fenris tossed cruelly to her. Struck by sudden inspiration, he grabbed the pirate's hand and brought it flush against his flesh. "Watch this," he told the amazed pirate and then turned to Hawke and called out gently to her retreating back.

"Hawke," he gentled his voice into a smooth, silky caress she was helpless to resist. She turned over her shoulder and Fenris gave her a smouldering, longing gaze.

"Say my name, Hawke," he whispered to her in his silky, honeyed baritone and he watched in amazement as a shudder raced through her body, before she readily complied.

"Fenris," she gasped, her voice choked with longing.

Bam. Instant take-off. Isabela's eyes widened and she pulled her hand away from Fenris' groin where a hard –on had appeared out of magic, as if responding to the sound of Hawke's voice.

"My, oh, my!" Isabela croaked. She watched as Hawke almost run out of the room and then turned to Fenris who was caught staring at the door she had disappeared into, a dreamy look on her face. "Go after her, you idiot!"

"Here, here!" Varric cried. "You are an idiot, seconded."

"Thirded!" Aveline slammed her hand on the table.

Ander scoffed. "It seems it is unanimous."

Fenris growled to all of their direction in general, not really paying any attention to them. Instead his gaze was on the door, while turmoil raged inside him: one side of him wanted to go after her, beg and plead and make her take him back; the other was terrified.

"Are you going after her, Broody, like sometime today perhaps?" Varric asked, and they all turned back to look at him, frowns of annoyance on all their faces, except of Anders that was secretly delighted the elf was missing out on his chance to reclaim Hawke as his.

Fenris sighed and bent his head, making Varric chortle a sarcastic laugh. "Broody, you are an idiot. King of all idiots. I hereby dub your Ser Broodiot." He then leaned towards Anders. "Go after her, Blondie, since Lord Broodiot doesn't seem to be willing to, and when you catch up with her, drag her up against the wall in a side alley and..."

Whoosh. Fenris had disappeared.

"Well, I knew that would do the trick," he muttered and then looked over at Anders that now had a crushed and disappointed look on his face. "Oh, cheer up Blondie," he clapped the mage on the back. "You can rile up the elf about his..performance. That is something."

Anders took a sip of ale and then cracked a smile.

"Any impotence jokes you wish to help me with?"

"Sure!" Varric shrugged. "Do you know the one with the guy that..."

* * *

Hawke was silently returning home, counting her steps as she went so as not to think about Fenris...with Isabela. It hurt that he would go from her bed to the pirate's, even if...even if they hadn't done anything.

Fenris couldn't...that had to be a lie. He had taken her so many times that night, until her body had protested, too sore to continue. She blushed now to think about it; the positions, the raw, animal passion, the way she had surrendered her body, soul and heart to him. Her helpless, mewling pleas and his panting, rough voice urging her on, guiding her from one orgasm to the other. Isabela was so much more experienced than her; the idea that Fenris and her hadn't set the sheets on fire was ridiculous. It was probably a ploy from the side of her friend so as not to hurt her feelings. Although...how she had managed to make Fenris agree to it, she had no idea.

Lost in her pensive thoughts, she failed to notice the rushed footsteps coming her way, not until a hand had grasped her forearm; she twirled around in alarm, cursing herself, to catch just a glimpse of white hair and soulful green eyes. Fenris, she whispered to herself in relief, before she tensed again as he roughly pulled her to the side, into a dark alleyway and slammed her against the wall.

"Fenris," she muttered, trying to get the breath that whooshed out of her back, "what..oomph!"

Her question was cut short by his hungry, demanding mouth descending on hers. She gasped and his tongue took the opportunity to invade her, flooding her mouth with his unique, unforgettable taste. Her knees buckled in response and heat streamed down her veins, making her soft and pliant for him; one corded arm wrapped around her torso to both steady her and pull her closer.

"Fenris?" she breathed his name like a question when his mouth slipped down her throat, his tongue boldly coming out to lick her heated skin, his lips suckling her tender skin, his teeth nibbling on her frantically beating pulse.

He pulled slightly back to look at her, and her breath again caught with the dark carnality written on his face; his face was flushed and his eyes dilated to nearly all black, his nostrils flaring.

"I thought you...and Isabela?" she bit her lip and Fenris' eyes zoomed into it. She swallowed hard, and his gauntleted hand came up to follow the line of her throat, tracking the same path down to the hollow of her neck.

"Nothing happened," he growled. "I...I couldn't. Maker, I wanted to, I wanted to forget you." The steel claw of his fingertip slid further down her throat, and he followed it with his eyes, as it easily sliced through the fastening of her robes on her throat and the front of her garment fell open. He drew in a shuddering breath as the tops of her breasts were revealed under her breastband. "How is it that you do this to me?" he growled, his whole body trembling. "What spell have you cast on me?"

She threw her head back, inviting him to taste her, not bothering to respond. She heard the noise of metal clattering on the floor and then his calloused, slender fingers cupped her face, and he held her still while he drank from her in the deep, hungry kisses she had been craving. Hawke moaned his name into his mouth, surrendering once more. His hips were thrusting against her core, one leg hitched up around his waist; she buckled and ground herself against him. No words were needed; every movement, every little sound she made, even her heated scent, spoke of her acceptance, her desire.

"What about you and Anders?" Fenris mumbled against her skin, his talented mouth ghosting over her cloth-covered nipple.

"He tried. I couldn't."

His head snapped up and a frown accompanied the lighting of his markings.

"I'll rip his fucking heart out," he spat out, menace dripping from his voice.

She smiled, sweetly, charmingly, and brought her hands up to tangle in the white mess of his hair. "He didn't touch me," she mumbled while trailing her sweet, hot tongue over his lower lip. "I couldn't let him." Her lips were on his sensitive ear now, following the elegant tip and making him moan low, deep in his chest, the sound rumbling like the purr of a big, dangerous jungle cat. "Only you, Fenris, only you..." she dreamily whispered, just before the pink tip of her tongue dipped into his ear and made him shudder.

With a predatory growl, Fenris, lifted both her legs around his waist, fumbling for just second to release the erection straining behind the laces of his leather britches and then hitch up her robes until they were pooling around her waist. He didn't bother with her smallclothes, opting to push the fabric to the side instead, revealing her dripping wet centre.

A hand cupping her backside, the other over her mouth to stifle her cries, he slipped inside her and then started shafting her with quick, relentless thrusts, pounding inside her in a blinding, furious pace, biting down on his lip to stifle his own agonised moans at how incredibly tight, how hot and wet and welcoming her sheath was. Maker this was bliss. it was heaven. He felt his sack tightening, lightning coursing down his spine; her sheath was pulsing like it had a heartbeat, squeezing him, milking him already, making the incredibly tight fit even tighter.

He brought his other hand underneath her and held her even more tightly, supporting all her weight, her body so close they both rocked upwards with every thrust. Hawke keened and mewled her pleasure, and moaned when he used his mouth to silence her.

"Harder," she pleaded, throwing her head back, tightening her arms around him, "fuck me harder, Fenris. Faster."

He gave her harder. He gave her faster, until something uncoiled inside him and he started coming, white light flashing behind his closed eyelids and ecstasy making him tremble like a stallion. He groaned, and then shouted her name to the heavens, as the hot jets of his semen splashing inside her triggered her own orgasm and she bucked into his arms like a wild thing, tightening around him like a vice. She nearly screamed his name, bit down on his shoulder hard enough to draw blood to stifle it. He slipped to his knees with her still clutched on him like a vine and fought to relearn how to breath.

Hawke started giggling and he raised his foggy eyes to look at her face, one eyebrow rising up.

"Can't get it up, indeed!" she laughed.

Fenris looked down to where his member had slipped out of her, and at the sight of their combined fluids leaking out of her he was instantly hard again, longing to be inside her once more, to pump her so full of his seed until there was no part of her that was coated in his essence. He gave her a sheepish smile, nodding downwards and her eyes widened in surprise and then in amusement as she saw his shaft again hard and poised at her entrance.

"Can't get it down, more likely!" she giggled again and Fenris just smiled, picked her up and carried her the short distance to her home.

* * *

Hawke and Fenris walked into the Hanged Man two days later, to be greeted with raised eyebrows and questioning looks. Fenris made it a big show to show her to her chair, holding the pirate's eye with challenge clearly written on his face, and Hawke sat down, only to jump up again immediately with a wince.

"Can I have a pillow, please?" she sweetly asked. Then she winked at Fenris and blushed. "I'm a little sore."

Isabela huffed and looked away, obviously miffed. For about two seconds, that is, because then her curiosity got the better of her and she started pumping Hawke for information which she readily supplied, giggling and blushing.

Anders walked in, and a unholy grin painted itself on his mouth when he spied Fenris.

"Ah, Fenris," he sneered. "I was expecting you at the clinic. I have some excellent herbs and potions, just right for your...little problem."

Fenris ignored the mage and exchanged a look with Hawke. She raised an eyebrow and then turned towards Anders.

"Sure, Anders," she drawled, a naughty smile lighting up her eyes, "I _am_ a little sore, but I wouldn't call it a problem."

Fenris' mouth quirked in a smug, male-ego-is-now-appeased smile at the way the mage's mouth gawked and his eyes widened. He slumped into a chair mumbling that his fun was ruined and damn them, they could have let him have a little fun riling the elf.

"We don't joke with little Fenris," Hawke replied.

"Little?" Fenris raised an eyebrow.

They exchange another heated look and Hawke blushed bright red.

"Okay, big Fenris." She blushed even more as his eyebrow rose even higher and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Okay, okay, impressively-sized Fenris. Satisfied?

"I will be. Later."

Varric looked at Isabela.

"Hey Rivaini, does that mean you've lost your touch?"

The busty pirate just laughed. "No, Varric, it just means my touch wasn't the right one to begin with."

"And doesn't that bother you?"

Isabela took a look at the way these two were devouring each other with their eyes and sighed.

"A bit." She then turned to Varric with a bright smile, her spirit too jovial to stay morose for more than a few seconds.

"But it got them back together. That's me. I'm a _helper_."

**The end**

 


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